Believer
by fanfic80
Summary: Olivia and Elliot begin their morning at the scene of a rape/homicide. Twists and turns ensue. The story has evolved into a multi-chapter. Possible E/O. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

When Detective Olivia Benson first arrived at the Central Park Boat House the air had been mild for a December night. But, at close to 3am, it was turning cold. Her boots broke frozen blades of grass on the lawn as she approached what she knew was the body - the reason she was there. The lights on top of the police cursers parked on the path cast red and blue shadows over the trees. Lights turned the lake deep shades of purple. Usually, Central Park was the place where if there was a body, you could count on spectators. But, it was too early and too cold for foot traffic. So, it was her and five or six uniformed officers who had responded first and who now, it seemed to Olivia, had run out of things to do.

When she had gotten the call an hour earlier, she had been in her bed, but not asleep. Still, the ringing had jarred her upright. Now, standing a few feet away from another victim, she felt the tiredness that had passed over her earlier in the night. Now, it had only served to make her anxious. She had been getting that a lot. Tired, but unable to rest. In some ways, she was grateful for the call. It gave her an excuse to be up. Olivia crouched down next to the body of a woman who looked to be in her late forties.

"A couple of joggers found her this morning," the uniformed officer standing above Olivia offered, "they were doing this night run thing around the water. The said that they made two passes. Didn't notice her the first time. Came back around the second time and that one over there," he pointed at the ambulance on the path, "says that he ran right into her … literally. He fell right over her."

"He fell on top of her?" Olivia stared up at the officer and then rose to look down at the woman lying face up on the still frozen grass. Her blond hair showed brown at its roots, fanning away from her face. Her mouth was ajar. Blood had pooled behind her head and her skirt was hiked up above her wait revealing white cotton underwear smeared in dirt. Her knees showed scrapes and deep cuts. Her inner thighs, Olivia noted, were badly bruised.

"She was raped." Olivia said, looking across the grass towards the ambulance.

"That's why we called you." The officer said. He turned and walked away.

Olivia stuffed her hands in her pockets and fixed her gaze on the ambulance where her partner, having arrived just a few minutes earlier, stood. She walked towards him. Detective Elliot Stabler (who had, in fact, been sleeping when he got Olivia's call to meet her at the Boat House) had not wanted to find himself in Central Park at 3am - freezing. But, his hands were warming in his pockets and, when he saw his partner's eyebrows furrow, he forgot about his bed.

"Liv…" He began.

"This one fell on the victim." Olivia motioned first to the ambulance and then to be body that was in the process of being fitted into a body bag and moved on to a gurney.

"I know." Elliot said by way of greeting. "The two of them were jogging at midnight. He says that they didn't see her the first time around on the path, but that when they looped around the second time – smack." Elliot clapped his hands together to indicate a collision.

"You found the victim?" Olivia addressed a slight man in his late twenties, shivering in shorts and a tank top. The girl, whose face had been nuzzled into his shoulder, lifted her head and wrapped a warming blanket more tightly around her.

"Found? Yes." The man looked tired. He cradled a bandaged wrist. "Last time I go on a god-forsaken night run." He spat the sentence at the girl who had fixed her gaze on Elliot.

"You told my partner that you ran around the trail twice. First time you said that you didn't see the body. Second that you – did. It was pretty dark. Do you think that you may have missed it the first time?" Olivia inquired.

"Not likely," the woman spoke up this time, "I run with a flash light. Usually a little bit ahead of Matt," she said gesturing towards her companion with the bandaged wrist. "He's a little afraid of the dark and doesn't like the cold. It's like a night light. I shine it right in front of us. Lights the whole place up like a Christmas tree. I would have seen it. The second time around, I did see it and I screamed, but it didn't stop this one from taking a spill."

"Interesting," Elliot interjected, "Did you happen to notice anything unusual during your run? Did you hear anything? I imagine that there aren't usually that many people taking 1am jogs around these parts in the dead of winter."

"Not usually … you know, when we were coming up the path, I did notice a car. It was strange like you said – we're usually the only ones here around this time. That's why we do it. To be alone – together. But, this time there was this red Volvo parked in the no parking zone. It's engine was on, but there was no one inside. Thought that it was weird, but then again …"

"We're the ones jogging with flash lights and…" the man interrupted.

"You said …" Olivia cut him off, "that there was a red Volvo parked in the no parking zone – on 96th?"

"Yeah." The couple said together.

"Take care of that wrist." Elliot said.

As the detectives approached the red Volvo, Elliot looked at his partner. She looked tired – far more tired than the early morning hour would explain away. The grass had thawed though it seemed that the air was growing colder. Olivia raced ahead when her feet hitting pavement. The car windows were wet with fog and, as the joggers had noted, the car was still running. Olivia pulled at the driver's side door handle and found it locked. Elliot tried the passenger side doors. Finding them locked as well he kneeled down to look beneath the vehicle.

"Liv …" he yelled, "look … blood."

A pool of blood had congealed beneath the car. The trail was visible from the rear door to the pavement.

"Break it." Olivia yelled.

Elliot removed his jacket and wrapped it around his closed fist, forearm and elbow. It took two attempts to break the glass and pop the lock. The back seat revealed nothing but more blood stains. Pools of blood had soaked into the tan leather.

"Elliot … Do you hear that?" Olivia yelled.

The detectives paused. A muffled moan caught Elliot's ear.

"Trunk!" Olivia called racing to the back. Elliot slid his hand through the rear window and popped the lock on the front door. Quickly, he pulled the driver's door open and yanked a lever that released the trunk's lock. He heard the trunk open.

As he moved to his partners side, he found that they were both staring at the near lifeless body of a small girl.


	2. Chapter 2

"Female. Approximately five years old. Stab wounds to her left and right shoulder blades … Possible strangulation. BP 90 over 60." The emergency room doctor began, talking past Elliot and Olivia to the nurses walking briskly beside the gurney. Gliding through the halls, resting on her back, a girl (approximately five years old) appeared, at first glance, to be sleeping. Elliot noted her yellow and green sun dress.

"Hypothermia," the doctor called out. The girl's hands and feet showed blue at their tips.

In the heat of the waiting room, Elliot's own coat left him feeling warm as he stood next to Olivia. The gurney disappeared in a rush of doctors and nurses behind a door swinging shut to reveal DO NOT ENTER in red lettering. Elliot thought over the girl. She was found with no coat, gloves or socks. Her shallow breath became instantly panicked as the EMTs lifted her out of the trunk and into a waiting ambulance. Her eyes stayed shut as the ambulance sped down Central Park West, beating the encroaching rush hour traffic. Elliot had ridden with her. Blood clotted in the girl's hair – short, curly and wild around her head. The monitors registered a faint and, it seemed to Elliot, almost lifeless heart. Dried blood beneath her nose indicated a recent nose bleed. At these moments, Elliot often thought of his own children, remembering them at the age of the victim playing in the park or about to be tucked into bed – eager for a story. Doing that always caused him something close to pain. He guessed that it was more of a longing, a deep pull to be instantly with them in those moments. Still, he found himself with someone else's child who was bruised, battered or scared. Always.

"She's dressed like she's going to the beach." Elliot turned to his partner who was standing with her hands crossed over her chest next to the admitting desk.

"CSI found no other articles of clothing around her – a jacket tossed off, socks, shoes. Nothing. Looks like whoever brought her out to that park in that car brought her out like that."

"Detectives," A woman dressed in ill-fitting scrubs approached them and introduced herself as Dr. Ryan, "I understand that the girl was found in the trunk of a car … Stab wounds did not sever any major arteries, but she's lost a lot of blood. Her fingers and toes are frost bitten. We're trying to save them, but the ones on her right hand are pretty bad. She's severely dehydrated and it looks like she hasn't eaten in a few days. Missing underwear and the troubling nature of what she was found wearing – I did a rape kit. There is bruising on her inner thighs …it could be consistent with her other injuries. My best guess, though, is that she was raped."


	3. Chapter 3

Olivia and Elliot had returned from the hospital to find the Manhattan Special Victims Unit Squad room in a quiet buzz of activity.

"Woman in her late forties found dead from an apparent head wound by the Central Park Boat house – evidence of rape. Medical Examiner puts the time of death at approximately 2 am which leaves about 15 to 20 minutes before our runner trips over her. Pooled blood around her head suggests that she bled out at the scene and died shortly before she was found. Rape kit came back positive for fluids. ME is running it for DNA. No identification. Uniforms are scouting the area for a discarded purse, jacket – anything that might tell us who she is. Nothing back yet." Olivia turned away from a wall of photographs – images of the body from this morning, the girl in the trunk. She faced Elliot who was standing next to SVU Captain Cragen. He looked concerned.

"Where are we with the girl?" Cragen continued.

"She's in surgery," Olivia moved past her partner and settled on top of her desk, one foot pushing her rolling chair out in front of her. She regarded the pictures and continued, "Rape kit came back negative for fluids internally, but there _is_ evidence of semen on her inner thighs. No sign of penetration."

"Thank god for small favors." Detective Munch interrupted.

"We're hoping to match the fluids found on the girl with the rape kit." Olivia continued.

"Are we thinking mother and daughter?" Cragen asked.

"It's hard to say. Our witnesses puts the red Volvo three blocks from where the body was dumped. Preliminary tests show fibers underneath the woman's finger nails. Trying to see if it's a match for the fabric in the vehicle. My guess is that they were in the car together…" Elliot began.

"So…perp rapes the woman, hits her over the head, drags her body to the Boat House …" Ventured Olivia, rising from the desk.

"Girl is assaulted in the car – back seat – he dumps her in the trunk while he drags the woman away. Leaves the motor running." Elliot finishes.

"Is she talking?" Cragen walked towards the posted images.

"She's in surgery. Can't tell us anything yet." Olivia turned to see Detective Tutuola walking through the squad room doors at a fast pace holding a sheet of paper pulled from the fax machine.

"Amber alert is out on Angelica and Tracey Bloom. Five year old twin sisters from Rochester, New York. Missing since yesterday morning. Last seen outside their parents' gas station. Witnesses place a white male, 6'1 driving a blue station wagon at the scene before they disappeared." Fin read off of the paper and then handed it to Olivia.

"That's her…" Taking the paper from Fin's hand, Olivia held it up to the photograph posted on the board. The images matched. The smiling images seemed in glaring contrast to the ones taken of the small girl found in the trunk of the car.

"Amber or Tracey?" Elliot asked.


End file.
